


Safety in Numbers

by agerefandom (tazia101)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Post-Canon, We Need Better Age Regression Tags, agere, good friendships, involuntary regression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25457035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazia101/pseuds/agerefandom
Summary: After the events ofBe More Chill, the kids become closer bit by bit. Jeremy becomes closer to Rich and finds out that he regresses sometimes.
Relationships: Rich Goranski & Jeremy Heere
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Safety in Numbers

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr account, @agerefandom. I'm always taking requests from sfw blogs for age regression fics! 
> 
> I use non-sexual kink tags because AO3 doesn't have a great system for tagging age regression yet, and I hope I can popularize the 'agere' tag for the future. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

After everything that happened, it was only natural for the five of them to become friends.

Jeremy shared a room with Rich and Jake in the hospital, and both Michael and Christine came to visit them regularly. At first, Michael came to sit with Jeremy, but eventually he would come and pull up a chair between the beds, chatting with all of them and pulling out his phone to show them all the latest hot meme.

Eventually, they returned to school to finish the year. No one really knew what had happened, but most people seemed to blame Jeremy. With Rich on the outs after the fire, and Jake unable to play football during his recovery period, the five of them formed an alliance of convenience, protecting each other from the alternating teasing and cold shoulders. They ate lunch together, walked to classes together, and kept an eye out for each other after school.

Slowly, what began as a survival strategy became a genuine friendship.

They all liked video games, as it turned out, although their tastes were drastically different. Soon their lunchtimes were consumed by arguments about console and PC games, arcade favourites and foreign imported games. Michael would get so worked up he would stand on his chair, and the others would pull him back down, laughing. Christine would gesture so wildly that she hit Jeremy in the face and get completely derailed by apologizing. Jeremy was hesitant at first, but eventually he was as loud as any of them, coming to the defense of Michael’s obsession with 8-bit games and arguing for the artistic integrity of the vintage aesthetic as Christine and Rich both scoffed at him.

It all worked in a way that Jeremy had never expected. He found himself hardly noticing the stares in the hallway, or the self-deprecating whispers in his head, when he was walking hand-in-hand with Christine, or Michael, or any of their friends. They had formed a closed circle together, with the rest of the world locked out, and that felt fine. It felt _safe_.

Jeremy felt like he knew everything about Michael, but he was still learning more every day. He got to know the other three from week to week, piecing together their childhood stories and comments about school into a patchwork picture of who they were.

Jake was living with his aunt now, Jeremy learned. With his parents expected to face serious jail-time, the courts had given Jake the choice between emancipation or a family member willing to house Jake until his 18th birthday. Jake got along fine with his aunt, but she wasn’t exactly a mother figure. She had never planned to have kids, and treated Jake more like a younger brother. Her house was small, so they rarely spent time at Jake’s house, and Jeremy had only met his aunt once.

Jeremy had never been over to Rich’s house. Jake told them that Rich’s father was a real asshole, and Rich said that things had gotten worse since the fire. Jeremy inferred that his SQUIP had been helping to defuse things at home as well as at school, and things weren’t going as well without it. Rich was always staying over at other people’s houses, beaming when he was invited to sleep on the couch. Jeremy tried to offer as much as possible; the couch in his basement folded out into a futon, and his dad was sympathetic once Jeremy explained Rich’s home situation.

Christine’s house was by far the largest of the five, full of decorative platters and parents who kept bringing them bowls of fruit. She had an entire couch in her bedroom, and once Jake’s legs healed, they found out that all five of them could squish onto it to watch movies on a laptop. The only downside was that her dad was a light sleeper and forced them all to go home at nine pm sharp, so they more often spent time in Jeremy’s basement. Michael’s basement was fine but always dirty, and his TV wasn’t half the size of Jeremy’s.

The rest of Jeremy’s Junior year passed in a blur of homework, movie nights, ‘Game Over’ screens, and cuddle piles. He learned about each of his friends, and in learning about them he came to love them.

–

When classes ended and summer came, as humid and oppressive as ever, Rich started staying at other people’s houses more. Jeremy’s house was the safest bet because his dad never said no, and the futon was pretty comfortable. So Jeremy got used to finding Rich on his doorstep in the evening, with a hopeful grin and his backpack slung over one shoulder.

Jeremy tried to talk to him about it, but Rich always switched the subject. He wanted to play video games, or watch terrible 70s horror movies and laugh at them, or argue about comic books. Jeremy obliged, letting Rich set the rules and the pace from night to night. Rich was manic with energy some nights, whooping and cheering at the screen with every successful kill. Other nights, he slumped against Jeremy’s side with blank eyes and fell asleep as soon as the movie title came on-screen.

Some nights, Jeremy would turn off the TV and quietly wedge a pillow under Rich’s head before sneaking up to his own bed. Other nights, when the futon was already set up, Jeremy would watch the movie with Rich’s head resting on his shoulder, and fall asleep with the credits scrolling.

Often, Jeremy would wake up in the middle of the night because Rich was a pretty active sleeper, and then he would tiptoe off to his own bed to give Rich his privacy.

One night, though, Jeremy wasn’t woken up by Rich kicking his legs or rolling on top of him. He was woken up by the sound of muffled whimpers beside him, a strained sound of fear.

Disoriented, Jeremy squinted into the darkness. It took him a moment to remember that he was on the futon in the basement with Rich, and from there he knew that Rich must be having some kind of nightmare.

“Rich?” Jeremy sat up and felt blindly for his friend. “Rich, wake up.” His hand made contact with Rich’s chest and he found Rich’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Rich, come on. Wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

After a few long seconds of that pained whimpering, Jeremy heard Rich gasp in a deep breath and then go quiet.

“Rich?” he asked the darkness softly. “Are you awake?”

There was no response, but with the hand Jeremy still had on Rich’s shoulder, he could feel that the other boy was shaking.

“Are you okay?” Jeremy started to panic a little bit, looking around for the light switch. What if Rich was having a seizure or something, and Jeremy couldn’t see because it was dark? “Rich, are you okay?”

“Sorry,” Rich whispered. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” He kept muttering the same word quietly, his body trembling like a leaf in the wind. His voice was tired and wavering and almost unfamiliar in its tone.

“It’s okay,” Jeremy told him, and stroked his arm with a thumb in what he hoped was a calming gesture. “You don’t need to be sorry. Do you want me to go?”

Jeremy felt Rich shake his head energetically.

“Cool, I’ll stay. Do you want a hug?” Jeremy had barely finished the question when Rich was in his arms, thrown forwards at full force. Jeremy heard himself make an ‘oof’ sound but he wrapped his arms around Rich, holding him tightly in the darkness. With Rich so close, Jeremy could finally hear that he was crying, his breaths catching in quiet sobs as he clung to Jeremy.

“M’sorry,” he muttered again into Jeremy’s neck. “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jeremy said. “Really, it’s okay. We all get nightmares.” He ran a hand up and down Rich’s spine, hoping to stop the shaking.

Time stretched on inside of the hug, all of Jeremy’s focus consumed by moving in a way that would calm Rich down. He didn’t know if they had been there for a minute or an hour. He rubbed circles into Rich’s back, ran his fingers through Rich’s hair, gently massaged the back of Rich’s neck. Slowly, Rich stopped shaking quite so much, and eventually the tears subsided. Jeremy’s shirt was cold and wet where Rich had been crying into his shoulder, but he tried not to shiver for fear of setting Rich off again.

Once Jeremy felt Rich’s breathing settle back to normal, he slowly loosened his arms from around Rich and sat back on the makeshift bed.

“Are you okay?” he asked again. It felt like a feeble question, but he waited for the answer.

“I- I dunno.” Rich’s voice was still high with confusion. “I dunno.”

“That’s okay.” Jeremy nodded into the darkness, even though Rich couldn’t see him. “It’s okay to be not okay, okay?” He really needed to stop saying the word ‘okay,’ it was starting to lose its meaning. “Do you want to go and get a snack, or go back to sleep?”

“Scared,” Rich whispered, his lisp heavy on the word. “Don’t wanna sleep.”

“Okay.” Again, Jeremy needed to stop saying that word, but he didn’t know what else to say. “We’ve got some ice cream in the fridge, if you want to wake up properly.”

“What kinda ice cream?” Rich’s voice sounded brighter, but it hadn’t lost that slurred, high-pitched tone.

“Same as earlier tonight, Rocky road and mint chocolate chip.”

“I like Rocky Road!” Rich said excitedly, and then Jeremy felt him curl up. “M’sorry,” he said, and then he was back to muttering the same word over and over “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Jeremy said soothingly. “It’s no trouble. Do you want me to bring the ice cream down here?” He reached out again to rub one of Rich’s shoulders, and the other boy leaned into the touch. Jeremy obediently scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Rich, squeezing him steadily. Rich melted against him, with a quiet sob.

“M’not s’pposed to be like this,” Rich whispered.

“Like what?” Jeremy asked, resting his cheek against the top of Rich’s head. Rich made a wordless sound of distress at the question and folded in on himself, hiding his head in his arms. It sounded like he was trying to talk, but only kept starting words and then giving up on them.

“It’s okay,” Jeremy said again. “I’m not mad. You’re my friend and I love you.” Those words had become easier over the months, although they still felt like a huge step every time he said them. In the darkness here, it didn’t feel as much like a risk.

“Nnn,” said Rich into his knees where he was curled up. “M’sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Jeremy hoped that he wasn’t being annoying by saying the same thing over and over again, but it was all that he could think of to say. “I’m here.”

“Sorry,” Rich whispered.

“What are you sorry for?” Jeremy finally asked, trying to keep his voice gentle.

“Bein’ all dumb and small,” Rich said, sniffling a bit. “Can’t think, m’too small.” At first, Jeremy thought he was apologizing for his height, which was ridiculous. But then he started putting the pieces together. Rich’s voice, the slurred words and the confused questions. The tears, which he had never seen from Rich before. Could he mean ‘small’ in the sense of feeling like a kid?

“That’s okay,” Jeremy assured Rich, tugging him a little closer into the cuddle. “You don’t need to think, I can get us ice cream and we can put something dumb on the TV until we feel tired.”

“Don’t leave, m’sorry,” Rich said, holding on tight to Jeremy’s sleeve.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jeremy promised, pushing his nose against Rich’s temple in an affectionate nuzzle. “I can just stay with you if you want me here.”

“Tank you,” Rich said, still holding onto to Jeremy’s sleeve as if he were going to pull away. Jeremy was relieved to hear thanks instead of apologies, this time.

“Of course,” Jeremy said, and ran a hand through Rich’s hair as the other boy slowly relaxed against him. “I love you. Of course, I’ll stay.”

“Love you too,” whispered Rich, and the two of them sat in the darkness until sleep came back for them both.


End file.
